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Summary:

"Want to head to the roof? Bit busy down here." Louis suggested, his tone deceptively casual. Zayn wasn't dumb.

He was going to say no.

He was.

OR: A songfic based on BeFoUr by ZAYN, for Zouis Fest 2025!

Notes:

Getting into this fic fest, I FULLY expected my idea to have already been done. I thought Zouis was a much bigger ship than it is; I was surprised to see the tag only has 2.2k fics, less than Niam AND Lilo. But on the bright side, at least my idea hasn't been done yet! As far as I could see, anyway.

I wanted to challenge myself with this songfic— instead of just using the lyrics as a guideline for the plot, I decided to also use the line breaks between choruses, verses, ect to guide the pacing of this fic. Hopefully it's fun!

Gifted this to my local Zouis enthusiast <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

I've done this before

Girls were familiar. Easy. Something Zayn was used to. Kissing girls was also easy. He did it a lot. At parties, events, the club— it was never a big deal. He'd built up a bit of a reputation for it; charming the most attractive and hardest to get girl in the room, having a cheeky snog, and then fading into the crowd. People saw it as playing hard-to-get. Being mysterious.

Zayn let them think that, but the truth was far more depressing.

He was deeply lonely.

Not like this

Zayn was going out tonight. Of course he was. He always went out on Friday nights. It was his routine, and he didn't have any reason to change it, even if he couldn't care less about the girls or the music. Or, hell, even the alcohol. He had better stuff at home, anyway.

He'd actually much rather stay in bed.

But that's not what Zayn Malik does. The singer. The brand. The legend.

Zain stays in bed with an edible and some good music.

Zayn Malik goes out on Friday nights.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

I don't drink to get drunk

Zayn found his usual haunt at the bar, sipping on something strong and bitter to distract from the ever-present emptiness. Filling his body with drunken warmth helped dampen the gnawing in his heart. He'd been missing something for a long time now, but he'd never bothered to figure out what. He didn't need to.

He just needed to show up and put on a brand-approved facade.

I feel all the right funk

Getting lost on the dance floor was always a safe bet. Swaying loosely and singing along under his breath to the music was a great way to calm his mind and enjoy the buzz from his alcohol-filled veins. Once or twice he even heard his own songs, but the attention didn't scare him. This was a private club, fame was the norm.

It'd be pretty easy to bring a girl home from this party. Everyone here was objectively gorgeous, but not everyone was Zayn Malik.

He eyed a pretty brunette; some singer he'd seen at places like this before but who's name he'd never bothered to learn. She'd be easy— she was already throwing glances his way, shaking her ass to the beat like she was being paid for it. He could tell she wanted him.

But Zayn didn't want her. He was too numb for that sort of thing. Sex, relationships, romance. Or at least, that was his rationalization for why none of his one-night-stands ever flourished into anything. Why he'd built up his no-commitment reputation.

If there's somethin' I want

He turned back towards the bar, needing another drink.

As he approached, he noticed a guy was sitting in his usual seat.

Okay. Fine.

Zayn took the seat next to him, fighting the urge to be snarky. It was his seat, sure, but it wasn't like he owned it. Everyone else just knew not to sit there on nights when he was present. He flagged the bartender for another of the same, sparing the seat-stealer a glance.

He was alright looking. Scruff on his face, unusually tan for a white boy, light brown hair that Zayn could only describe as fluffy, and—

The guy met his gaze, his blue eyes making Zayn's breath catch in his throat.

What the hell?

"Hey." The guy said, his Yorkshire accent sending a shiver down Zayn's spine.

Oh, no. Absolutely not.

I'll take all the right wrongs now

"Uh, hey." Zayn responded, idly accepting the drink the bartender was handing him. He only took his eyes off of the mystery guy for a moment, but in that time it was if the air had shifted. He wanted to get up, head back to the dance floor, but he felt rooted to his seat, blue eyes staring right through him.

Transfixed was the only word that could come to mind.

Who the fuck was this guy? Some sort of fucking witch?

"Name's Louis." The guy, Louis, offered. Mind reader.

Zayn felt his mouth go dry, and he took a sip of his drink to wet it again.

"Zayn." He said, after a moment. If this guy wasn't going to state his last name, he wouldn't either.

Louis gestured to his drink, "What's in that?" He asked. Zayn eyed the cheap beer Louis was nursing.

"…Not the faintest idea, to be honest with you." Zayn murmured, his eyes flitting down to whatever the bartender had interpreted 'strong as fuck' to mean.

Louis smiled at him, "Looks good. Might get one myself." He winked.

Why the hell was his face burning?

I'm gonna stay in my zone

Was this guy flirting with him?

Zayn was no stranger to being flirted with— by women and men, but this… was different. It felt different.

Dangerous.

He wasn't immediately shutting Louis down, and his own hesitation scared him.

What was he doing?

Why wasn't he saying anything?

"If you wanted a taste, why not just say so?" Zayn shot back, barely registering the words until they had left his mouth.

No.

He needed to leave. He couldn't do this.

Leaving Louis with the pretty blue eyes alone, Zayn stood, striding back onto the dance floor and letting himself blend into the mangle of people. Dodging elbows was second nature, as was avoiding attractive people he wanted to shake off.

I'm tired of pickin' that bone

Louis followed him.

As much as Zayn tried to effectively slip away.

"I ne—got your—me—" Louis tried to say, but the noise around them was drowning him out.

"Sorry?" Zayn prompted, stopping his pace. He turned to face Louis, the space between them disturbingly narrow.

Louis raised his voice, his tone still even, "I never got your last name, Zayn." He drew out Zayn's name like it was foreign to him.

That was new. His name was usually spoken to him with the intonation of familiarity, or even obsession… want. Usually from women.

Tentative unfamiliarity was…

He decided, against all of his better judgment, that he liked the way Louis said his name.

Like there were no expectations attached to it.

"Malik." Zayn responded, far too late, "Zayn Malik." He repeated, figuring it was pointless to try and conceal his identity.

Louis hummed, nodding and taking another sip of his beer, "The singer." He replied, like a statement rather than a question.

"So you do know who I am?" Zayn raised an eyebrow.

"Vaguely," Louis shrugged, "I'm a singer too. Tomlinson." He added, and Zayn nearly choked on his own drink.

"You're Louis Tomlinson?" He asked, the words spilling from his mouth before he could level his tone.

Louis barked out a laugh, "Never seen my face before?" He sounded surprised, his accent coming out thicker.

"I've only heard you on the radio." Zayn said, explaining himself quickly.

"Ditto." Louis replied.

And I can't be bothered

There was a beat of relative silence, neither speaking as the noise around them swallowed up all of Zayn's sense.

"Want to head to the roof? Bit busy down here." Louis suggested, his tone deceptively casual. Zayn wasn't dumb.

He was going to say no.

He was.

To fight it no more, no

"Lead the way, Louis." Zayn conceded, using the same tentative intonation that had been used against him just minutes prior.

Louis smirked like he had won something.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Numb on a roof, set it on fire

"Didn't take you as swinging both ways." Louis said offhandedly, as the two of them stepped out of the stairwell and into the quiet cool air of the rooftop.

"I don't." Zayn defended reflexively.

"Oh?" Louis lilted.

"I mean," Zayn sighed, "I don't swing any way. I don't care for relationships." He said, the words stinging on his tongue. It wasn't a lie.

Why did it feel like one?

"Have you ever been with a man?" Louis pressed further. Zayn groaned, picking up his pace. They were strolling around the space, no particular direction chosen.

"Don't need to." He decided. That was a good enough answer.

Louis laughed again, catching up to him, "Do elaborate, Zaynie darling."

"I…" Zayn trailed off as he registered the pet name. Something churned in his stomach, something suspiciously nauseating, "I've been with plenty of women. Seen enough." He retorted, effectively shutting down the topic.

Just to give me proof, I'm livin' on a wire

"Can I give you my number at least?" Louis tried, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Zayn furrowed his brows, "For what?"

Louis shrugged, "Gotta shoot my shot, y'know?"

Zayn didn't respond.

They kept walking in slow silence before settling near the stairwell again, sitting against the concrete wall. It was oddly sobering, which only made Zayn feel more jittery. He wasn't usually this on-edge. Ever.

"Why not hit on someone who's into you?" He asked finally, not wanting to continue that line of questioning but unable to see any other path out.

"So you're saying you aren't?" Louis asked in turn. Okay. They could both avoid questions. Fair play.

Zayn didn't have an answer Louis would accept.

"Thought so." Louis mumbled after a beat, his sly smile returning yet again.

Numb on a roof, set it on fire

Zayn snapped, "I don't get what you're playing at."

"Drunk flirting, duh." Louis shot back without hesitation, his tone so nonchalant it made Zayn's stomach flip. Drunk flirting.

Duh.

Zayn groaned in exasperation, hiding his face in his hands.

"You're a menace." He muttered, nothing more accurate coming to his hazy mind.

"You hardly know me."

"I've seen enough." Zayn repeated, pulling his hands away from his face.

When he looked up, Louis' lips were on his.

Just to give me proof, I'm livin' on a wire

Louis pulled back after a prolonged moment, leaving Zayn stunned.

They stared at each other for several seconds, blue eyes piercing into brown.

Zayn's lips were tingling.

That was new.

"Fuck it." Zayn whispered, moreso to himself than anyone else, before he closed the space between them once again.

Any sobering the cool concrete had given him was swiftly undone by the feeling of kissing Louis.

His lips tasted like alcohol and electricity.

Zayn thought he heard Louis whine, but at that point it could have been a hallucination.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and red-faced, Zayn gave Louis his number.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

So say what you wanna say, what you wanna

The next morning, Zayn's horoscope advised him to expect change soon.

He ignored it.

Just like he ignored Louis' text.

For about five hours before the guilt knawed at him too much.

Louis Tomlinson: Hey, hope you're sobering up alright!

Zayn typed out a simple reply, just to be able to put it out of his mind.

I am. Thanks.

Hopefully it conveyed what he couldn't say unless he was barred from operating a motor vehicle.

So say what you wanna say, what you gotta say now

Louis texted him a party invite.

It was private.

At Harry Styles' house.

Zayn had been casually invited to a house party at the home of one of the most famous artists in the world.

How well-connected was this guy?

Zayn had heard a few of Louis' songs on pop-rock radio in recent years, but until last night, he hadn't been able to put a face to the name, let alone gauge his level of industry status.

Now he had not only a face, but a taste to the name.

He didn't know what to make of that information.

What he did know was that he shouldn't go to the party. It was a bad idea, all around.

His reputation was already at stake with the recent rumours of him being a recluse (true, but beside the point), he didn't need sexuality rumours hitting the headlines next.

Tapping on the message icon, Zayn began typing.

So say what you wanna say, what you want

I'll be there.

He sighed, flopping back against his pillow.

This was such a bad idea.

Shame is you won't say that to my face

Can't wait <3

Oh, god.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

I've done this before

Walking up to the front door of Harry Styles' house with Louis at his side, Zayn took note of how… normal it looked. For being owned by one of the biggest popstars in the world, the place was fairly modest.

Like, sure, it was a nice house, but that was it. Just a nice house. Not some sort of pompous mansion or penthouse or whatever else A-listers were getting these days.

Louis, of course, was already making himself a distraction. His shirt was loose but small enough to show off his figure, his jeans so skinny Zayn was pretty sure they could be used to make a perfect mold of his legs and arse.

He was so fucked.

The distraction opened it's mouth as they passed the threshold of the front door, the noise inside briefly jarring.

"So, you're gay?" Louis asked, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

"Do you always start conversations with personal questions?" Zayn countered.

Louis barked out a laugh, "Just when I'm trying to get in someone's pants."

"Oh, so that's what this is?" Zayn crossed his arms, his voice taking on a sarcastic tone.

Louis tapped a finger to his chin, pretending to think on it, "Well, maybe. I'm starting to like you, surprisingly." He concluded.

Zayn's eyes narrowed, "What's that meant to mean?"

"Just answer the question." Louis redirected.

Sigh.

"No, I'm not."

Louis was persistent.

"Bi, then?"

Zayn pinched the bridge of his nose, "Will you stop?" He pleaded.

"Will you answer honestly?" Louis shot back, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"I did answer honestly." Zayn stated, but it sounded distant even to him as he glanced around.

A bathroom. Sure.

"Uh-huh." Louis continued, clearly not dropping it, "Do you like women?"

Okay, that was enough.

Zayn grabbed Louis by the arm, holding tight to his wrist as he dragged him towards the bathroom. Inside, he slammed the door shut and pushed Louis up against it, double-checking that it was empty before crashing their lips together.

"Mmph—" Louis moaned against his mouth, somehow still managing words, "So— gay or bi?"

Zayn resisted the urge to hit him.

Not like this, not like this

Louis was, shockingly, the one to drag them out of the bathroom, insisting that they check in with Harry (fucking Styles) before disappearing for most of the night.

Zayn didn't like how confident Louis was that he was going to fuck him.

He also didn't like how accurate Louis was.

God, his inhibitions were fucked, and he hadn't even had a sip of alcohol yet.

This was just what Louis was doing to him.

They found Harry in the kitchen, chatting with some women. They were pretty, objectively so, but not Zayn's type.

Although, Zayn wasn't even sure his type was women anymore. Louis was so quickly undoing everything he'd built up about himself. It was terrifying.

And exhilerating.

It was also very, very stupid.

"HAZZA! Long time no see!" Louis shouted, injecting himself into the conversation like he belonged there. Harry (fucking Styles)'s face lit up, and he pulled Louis into a tight hug. Zayn noted how much younger he looked in-person compared to on video, his face clean-shaven and his dimples adding to his youthful vibe.

"Oi— Let me touch the ground!" Louis protested, wriggling out of Harry's grip just as his feet lifted off the floor. Harry let him go, and he stepped back beside Zayn, almost instinctively.

"Lou! Glad you made it. This your date?" Harry asked, eyes flitting to Zayn, who grimaced in response.

Louis laughed, "If I'm lucky, he will be."

"Shut up." Zayn snapped. He was not doing this in front of Harry fucking Styles.

"Aw, Zaynie, don't get all flustered around Harry." Louis teased, "I've known him since we were kids, he's not going to make a thing of your sexuality crisis." He wiggled his fingers.

"You're such an arsehole, you know that?" Zayn shot, any trace of goodwill fleeing him.

Louis shrugged, fucking shrugged, "I've been told." He smirked. In the corner of his vision, Zayn could see Harry cracking a smile aswell.

Zayn groaned, walking off without waiting to explain where he was going.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Time for me to move up

He managed to avoid Louis for one whole, entire hour.

In that time, he drank. And mingled, attempting to chat with the other guests, but mostly he drank.

And he was dodging Louis Tomlinson like he was the black fucking plague.

For one hour.

He was stood in the corner of the living room when his streak broke, sipping on something disgustingly sugary when Louis materialized beside him.

"You're avoiding me." Louis stated, his voice a little rough around the edges. He must have been talking up a storm. Typical.

"I'm just enjoying the party." Zayn replied cooly.

"Did I upset you?" Louis asked, his tone so sincere it prompted Zayn to actually look at him.

Oh.

He played it off, "Since when do you care?" Zayn snided.

A beat passed. He expected Louis to speak, but he didn't. That was new.

Finally, Zayn conceded, "No, you didn't upset me." Louis' eyes were brilliantly blue and shiny, reminding him stupidly of a puppy.

"You're lying." Louis said, a statement.

Zayn sighed, frustrated, "I don't know what you're expecting me to say." He admitted.

"I'm sorry." Louis apologized.

What?

"What—?" Zayn started, but Louis cut him off, the words coming out in a rush.

"For back there. With Harry. I shouldn't have said all that just 'cause he's my mate." Louis fidgeted with his hands, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He looked, for all accounts, genuinely sorry.

Zayn didn't know how to feel.

"It's fine." He said, at a loss for words.

"It's not." Louis pressed.

Zayn turned fully towards Louis, the coil snapping inside of his chest.

"I'm telling you it's fine, so it's fine." He stressed the last word, receiving no pushback.

So many hours have gone

Another hour passed.

Zayn drank, Louis drank.

Zayn stayed quiet. Louis talked. To everyone.

They stayed side by side. Stupidly.

For a self-appointed 'lone wolf,' that was… new.

What was also new was the urgency Zayn could feel thrumming beneath his skin the longer he and Louis mingled around the house. He'd already spent the past twenty-four hours replaying their first kiss on the roof of the club, and only recently had that been replaced with their impromptu bathroom kiss earlier.

Zayn was going insane.

No, Louis was driving him insane.

Because for the first time in his entire life, Zayn wanted someone.

He wanted Louis.

More than was suitable to report.

It was terrifying how quickly things had gone up in the air.

"Louis." Zayn said lowly, his tone firm.

Louis stopped talking mid-word, turning to tilt his head at him questioningly.

Fuck, he was cute.

Zayn was going to regret this.

"Let's go upstairs."

Louis grinned like he'd just won the jackpot at a casino, and Zayn would be miffed if his smile wasn't so alluring.

Heart beats the pump of my blood

Zayn was used to leading.

Louis, naturally, undid that completely.

They found an empty room upstairs, but Louis didn't let Zayn get a word in before he had him pressed up against the wall, kissing him like a man starved.

Louis' strength was surprising— and hot. He managed to keep Zayn pinned with ease, despite being smaller.

"Tell me when to stop." Louis mumbled, moving from Zayn's lips to his neck.

Zayn knew he wouldn't.

If Louis wanted to ruin him, he should know that he already had.

No strings for you to pull on

"Are you gay yet?" Louis asked, breathless and sweaty as he flopped down on Zayn's chest.

Zayn groaned, hiding his face in his hands, "Will you give it a rest? I don't know, okay?" He finally admitted.

A beat of silence passed.

"Okay."

"…Okay?" Zayn hesitantly tried.

Louis pushed himself up on his elbows, "I did say I just wanted an honest answer, and that sounded pretty honest." He explained.

"Prick."

"Correct."

Zayn collected his thoughts as best as he could, his mind still reeling.

"So… now what?" He spoke after a minute, the most functional question he could come up with.

Louis hummed, "Whatever you want. Set the pace and I'll follow." He put plainly.

"That's…" Zayn trailed off, peering at him curiously, "I never know what to expect with you." He landed on.

Louis smiled, "Yeah, I do that on purpose."

"Of course you do." Zayn mumbled, rolling his eyes.

A pause filled the space.

"Well, what are you looking for?" Louis prompted. Zayn threw it back at him.

"What are you looking for?" He asked, somehow hoping Louis had more of a direction in mind. He was the one with experience, after all.

Louis, however, was unhelpful.

"Like I said, whatever you want. No strings unless you want them."

Silence.

Zayn reached a tentative hand up, running it through Louis' sweaty hair. He relaxed into it.

Something tugged at Zayn's heart.

Oh god.

"…I don't want this to be a one time thing. That's all I can honestly say right now." He finally mustered.

Louis exhaled slowly, content-sounding, "I don't want this to be a one time thing either." He whispered.

Zayn raised an eyebrow, "Really? I find that hard to believe." He said.

"Oi," Louis scoffed, "Just because I act like a slut doesn't meant I can't be committed." He defended.

Zayn let out a small laugh despite himself.

"Of course, my bad." He conceded. Louis grinned, leaning down and kissing him softly.

So softly. It lingered, and Zayn closed his eyes, savouring the feeling.

He'd never felt so emotionally fulfilled before, as ridiculous as that was to say about a guy he'd met twice and just had sex with at a house party, but… well.

You've got your tongue in your cheek

"So," Louis said, pulling back, "Not a one time thing. Pretty vague, don't you think? Are we talking dates, marriage, friends-with-benefits, something else I'm definitely forgetting?" He listed, sass in full force.

Zayn bit his bottom lip. He didn't know how to answer that.

"How about just… I want to see you again… and we'll see where it goes?" He tried, choosing his words with care.

Louis nodded slowly, "I can work with that."

So pardon if I don't speak

They returned to the party… eventually. Re-clothed, somewhat decent, maybe a little sweatier than they'd been prior.

Zayn felt a bit sore, but he pushed past it, not about to broadcast to a house party full of A-list celebs that he just got his back blown out by some twink he met yesterday.

Despite attempting to go their separate ways, they ran into each other no less than three more times before the night was over.

But, on the bright side, they only ended up making out in a closet two of those times.

…Zayn was so fucked.

Can't tune my chords

Zayn had taken an Addison Lee to the party, so Louis insisted on driving him home. Because of course he did.

Because Zayn just couldn't catch a break, could he?

At least he could turn the radio up to drown out the heat beneath his skin still lingering. To ignore the inevitable twinge of longing he knew he'd feel when it came time to part ways— properly this time.

Into your song, no

Louis spent the night.

Zayn didn't know who he was trying to kid.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Numb on a roof, set it on fire

That night, Zayn dreamt about their first kiss. It was hazy, and perfect, and lasted far longer in the dream than it had in real life.

Just to give me proof, I'm livin' on a wire

When he woke, Louis was still there. Asleep. In his arms.

He didn't know what timeline he must have accidentally slipped into, but at such an early hour with a warm, sarcastic, beautiful boy in his arms, he couldn't find it in him to fight it anymore.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

So say what you wanna say, what you wanna

"Can you cook?" Zayn asked, flipping through his kitchen cabinets for something to do with his hands. He was making eggs and sausage for breakfast, something easy that nobody could protest being served.

Since he wasn't yet sure of Louis' tastes, he played it safe.

"Not one bit," Louis replied, "Can't be trusted in the kitchen at all. Last time I tried to make a frozen pizza the fire department was involved." He explained, his smirk insintuating sarcasm, but Zayn believed him anyway.

Still, his expression turned quizzical as he responded, "You, Louis Tomlinson, twenty four, grown man with a professional career in music, can't cook at all?"

"Is that a deal breaker?" Louis asked in turn, eyebrow quirked up.

It should be.

"…No." Zayn sighed, "But it's pretty pathetic."

Louis grinned, "I'm aware. I make up for it with my other talents." He said, matter-of-factly.

"Like cleaning?" Zayn asked hopefully.

"I was gonna say head game, but that works too." Louis giggled. Giggled.

Zayn shook his head, "You're impossible."

"I've heard."

Of course he had.

So say what you wanna say, what you gotta say now

"So, I think it's safe to assume we're exclusive now?" Louis asked as they ate on Zayn's couch, music playing softly from the TV.

Zayn stopped his movements, "Were we not before?" He asked. Wasn't that what they'd agreed upon?

"Well, we weren't anything before, but if it helps, I haven't messed around with anyone else since we met." Louis offered, his tone casual.

"It does, actually." Zayn admitted.

Louis drew in a breath, "So… exclusive?" He prompted again.

"What does that entail…?" Zayn tempted, not afraid to admit his fear of commitment. He'd only known Louis a short while, and even though it felt so right, things were still moving fast.

Faster than he was used to.

He liked Louis. He could acknowledge that, at least. But if Louis was starting to have expectations, Zayn feared he wouldn't meet them.

It wasn't like he was able to before, with girls.

Although, Louis wasn't a girl.

"Not much different. Like I said, no strings unless you want them." Louis reiterated, "To me, being exclusive is just an agreement that we won't, like, fuck other people while we're navigating whatever this is." He said, gesturing between them loosely.

Okay, that was simple enough. Zayn could definitely follow through on not fucking anyone else.

There wasn't anyone else he'd ever wanted to fuck.

So say what you wanna say, what you want

"Have you been with other guys before?" Zayn asked, the two of them upstairs in the lounge, a calm and familiar environment for Zayn at least. Louis had suggested they play an endless version of twenty questions, nothing off limit, to get to know each other better.

Louis scoffed, "'Course, plenty. I'll be the first to admit I had a slag phase. Was figuring things out, y'know? Especially when I was younger— my early twenties were full of random hookups and first dates. Not many serious relationships, though. Always wanted to settle down, but obviously I haven't had much luck with that." He gestured to himself, as if it explained everything. It sort of did.

Zayn hummed, "You're really nothing like I expected you to be. You're more… down to earth than I would've guessed." He concluded.

That made Louis laugh, "Well, I can't blame you, I came on quite strong." He reminded.

Zayn let out a small snort, "And now we're here." He said, followed by a pause. Silence, but not uncomfortable silence. Just quiet.

"Have you ever had a serious relationship? With a woman?" Louis asked.

Zayn's breath hitched. In his mind flashed a blur of his exes and former hookups, permeated by an intense feeling of detachment, uncertainty… relief that it was over.

Shame is you won't say that to my face

"No, I haven't. Not really." He answered honestly. It was probably the first real glimpse into his state of mind he'd given Louis thus far, excluding jokes. But if, like Louis had posited that morning, they were going to give this any sort of shot… he might as well put all of his cards on the table.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

I've done this before

That night, Louis went home. He had to be up early the next day to help his sisters organize some sort of promotional event, apparently, and he didn't want Zayn 'distracting him.'

Which, fair enough.

He didn't leave without kissing Zayn at least a dozen times and promising to text, though, so there were still positives.

Louis did text, but it wasn't at all what Zayn had been expecting. Although, he couldn't say he fully expected anything from Louis at this point, given he'd never once been on the right track with where that boy was taking him.

im picking you up @8 dress comfy ;)

Okay. He had a date, he supposed. That could go a million different ways.

Many of them bad.

But he was excited.

Not like this, not like this

Louis showed up at 8:15, insisted he was fashionably late, explained that his sister actually called him last-minute to panic about her event and that's why he was late, and then made the two of them even more late by making out with Zayn in his foyer, before finally hitting the road towards their destination.

So, really, it was a perfect start to the night.

Zayn didn't set any expectations, because Louis had persistently proven he would subvert them, but it was still a surprise when their date location turned out to be an outdoor concert. Neither of them knew the band playing; Louis explained that he had seen a flyer for it that afternoon and figured it could be fun. Zayn hadn't let him in on many of his interests and hobbies beyond their shared career in music, so Louis had done really well with not much to work with.

"Is this alright? If it's a bad idea we can do something else." Louis mumbled, as they approached the crowd in the park.

"No, I like this. It's fun." Zayn responded, trying to let loose on his barriers. He slipped his hand into Louis', taking a chance in the darkness of the evening. Louis looked at him in surprise and smiled, leaning his head on Zayn's shoulder as the set began.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Flashing lights

The music was good. It was upbeat, something between rock and hyperpop, and Zayn and Louis had danced the night away amidst the jumping crowd. It had been fun, and they'd left with smiles on their faces and grass on their trousers. So, all in all, a good date.

But the night wasn't over yet. Louis had one more thing planned, apparently.

Zayn, inhibitions utterly dismantled and discarded, didn't bother to hide his curiosity.

"Where are we going now?" He asked, from the passenger seat of Louis' car.

"Well," Louis replied, "First we need to get food, because I don't know about you but I am starving after all that. Got a favourite place?"

Zayn thought for a moment, "Is anything even open at this hour besides McDonalds?" He questioned aloud.

Louis smirked, "You've fallen for my ruse. I love Macca's more than fine dining." He joked.

Zayn laughed, "Of course you do, you eat like a five year old." He said.

Louis scoffed, "Rude, but correct."

"If it's correct it's not that rude." Zayn reasoned.

They stopped at McDonalds, wolfing down sub-par burgers like starved men, before Louis took them to the final destination of the night— a field, surrounded by trees, with perfect view of the stars.

"Stargazing?" Zayn asked, stepping out of the car.

"Don't like it?" Louis asked, his smile faltering.

Zayn's voice softened, "I love stargazing."

Louis' grin returned, "Glad I guessed correctly, then." He said, his tone just as soft.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

So say what you wanna say, what you wanna

"You just keep surprising me." Zayn said, interrupting Louis' flow of flipping through vinyls at the local record store. He'd gotten a second date.

"To be fair, I keep surprising myself," Louis responded, picking up a vinyl of his own record before dropping it as if it was on fire, "You do know this is my first serious relationship, right?"

Zayn stopped thumbing over the plastic protective layer of a Beatles record, "Wait— what?" He tried to meet Louis' eyes, but he was coincidentally admiring the genre placard labelling the section they were in.

"I've told you this, Z." Louis reasoned, his confident tone returning so fast it made Zayn second-guess the anxiety he'd noticed.

"When you said you hadn't had much luck with serious relationships, I didn't think you meant you'd never given it a shot." Zayn reasoned.

Louis nearly cut him off, "Oi— I've given it a shot! It's just that I've never met someone who also wanted to give it a shot, alright?" He explained. And, okay, that made sense.

"Well," Zayn retorted anyway, "You do have a habit of picking up one night stands at clubs. I can sort of see why that crowd isn't keen on starting something serious with the twink they had drunk sex with." He raised an eyebrow.

Louis looked down. Fuck.

"Sorry, that was too far." Zayn apologized, after a moment.

"No, no, you're right," Louis perked back up, "I just… don't know how else to go about dating. Since I was eighteen I've always met guys in pubs and whatnot. 'S never worked out, like you said." He explained, sounding half-upset, half-attempting-to-not-sound-upset.

Zayn didn't have a good response that wasn't grovelling, and he figured that would just make Louis more uncomfortable anyway, so he settled for reaching his hand out and grasping his.

Louis looked down at their conjoined hands, then back at Zayn's face, now smiling.

"Hand-holding in public? Risqué, I like it." He teased.

And he was back to normal.

So say what you wanna say, what you gotta say now

"This might be a stupid question." Louis said, out of the blue.

Zayn side-eyed him, "You ask those daily, what's with the forewarning now?" He asked, skeptical of his intentions.

"…Because I'm actually a little nervous about it." Louis admitted.

Oh. Okay. That got his attention. He turned onto his side where he was laying on Louis' bed, blinking in the dim lack of light until he could properly make out Louis' blue eyes, filled unusually with worry.

It was late. Far too late for them to still be up with the schedules they had, but one thing had led to another and… there was no way in hell Zayn was going back home tonight.

"Gonna ask your stupid question or just keep staring a hole through my shoulder?" Zayn asked, after a full minute of silence.

Louis shifted his gaze to make eye contact.

"D'you want to be my boyfriend?" He asked, sounding more meek than Zayn thought he was capable of sounding.

"Oh." Zayn thought they were already sort of doing that. Were they not?

Louis groaned, falling back against the pillows, "I told you it was a stupid questio—"

"Yes." Zayn added, before he was misunderstood.

"Oh!" Louis sat back up, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Jinx." Zayn mumbled, before continuing, "But yes, of course. Why did you think that was stupid?" He asked gently.

Louis bit his bottom lip, "I… didn't think you'd actually say yes." He muttered.

"Why not?" Zayn asked, tilting his head, "I mean, we've already agreed to be exclusive. It's been a few weeks. I'd say we're practically boyfriends already, just without the verbal confirmation." He elaborated.

Louis didn't answer, "When did you get so self assured?" He asked instead. Zayn softened, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his lips.

"When I met you." He responded.

Louis snorted, "That's the cheesiest thing you've ever said."

"Was it bad?" Zayn asked, smiling slyly.

"Yes. But I loved it, so you get a pass." Louis decided.

Zayn pecked him again, "I'll take it."

So say what you wanna say, what you want

A month passed.

Zayn had never felt happier.

Louis was the sun in his sky. The highlight of his day. And maybe a month was too soon to be falling as hard as he was, but considering he'd never so much as spared a genuine glance for anyone else he'd ever been with, he wasn't about to argue with the way things were going.

He was happy being happy.

Shame is you won't say that to my face

Louis showed up at his door with roses. In dress clothes.

"What the hell—" Zayn started, but he was cut off.

"I'm taking you on a proper date." Louis asserted, not elaborating.

"I'm— I'm not dressed for this." Was somehow all Zayn could come up with.

Louis waved his hand, "Take ten minutes, meet me back out here." He said, as if it was the obvious solution.

"You won't come in?" Zayn asked, confused.

"We won't make it out of here if I go inside." Louis pointed out.

"…Fair enough. I'll be right back."

So say what you wanna say, what you wanna

Their 'proper date' was perfect.

Louis had already lucked out with the first few dates he'd taken Zayn on, always going with safe bets— record store, nice dinner, coffee, things of the sort.

But this time? He'd gone all out. It was as if everything Zayn had ever told him about himself had found itself a permanent home in Louis' mind, culminating in a date that felt hand-crafted with far too much love and care for somebody he'd only been dating for two months.

Firstly, Louis took him to his favourite restaurant for dinner. It was a small local place, family-owned, and Zayn raved about it regularly. After that, it was off to a live Yu-Gi-Oh tournament, something Zayn knew existed but had no idea was happening local to him.

Somehow, Louis had known, and knowing about Zayn's extensive Yu-Gi-Oh obsession, had bought tickets weeks ago.

He'd been planning this for weeks.

So say what you wanna say, what you gotta say now

"For someone who's never had a serious relationship before, you're pretty fucking amazing at the whole boyfriend thing." Zayn complimented, proudly kissing him in the car lot after the tournament. It was well dark now, and not many people were milling around, but he still hoped Louis understood the significance of it.

Louis smiled into it, his face red when he pulled back, "Well, like I've said, it's not for lack of trying. I do consider myself something of a romantic." He said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Zayn didn't even make a joke of it, he was too pleased.

"You're definitely very romantic. Tonight was perfect. I feel like I owe you an equally thought-out date now." He said, laying the praise on thicker than he normally would, but it made Louis smile so brightly he thought he ought to amp it up more often.

Louis pouted, "Aw, but I like pampering you. Makes me feel important." He replied.

"That's because being the oldest sibling growing up gave you a complex." Zayn shot back, his normal self returning.

"Oi, don't hurt a man's pride now!" Louis play-shoved him, laughing. Zayn couldn't help it; he laughed with him. He was just so happy.

"God, I love you." He mumbled, before he could catch himself.

So say what you wanna say, what you want

Louis bit back his smile from growing anymore ridiculous.

"I love you too." He replied quietly, leaning into Zayn's following embrace.

Shame is you won't say that to my face

The next morning, Zayn's photo app sent him a memory from three months ago. It was of him at a club, some girl he couldn't remember the name of shaking her ass on him as the bass peaked the audio. He felt like that version of himself was someone else entirely. Someone unrecognizable to who he was now.

Oh, if only that Zayn had known.

⊹˚₊‧ ─────────────── ‧₊˚⊹

I've done this before (Never done it like this, baby)

'Blue' didn't begin to explain his eyes. They were depthful, full of emotion and worry and thinly veiled perfectionism. The edges were a deeper blue that lightened towards his pupils, flecks of greenish-yellow faintly visible in the right lighting.

On rainy days, they even looked grey.

Not like this (Not like this), not like this (Not like this, baby)

His laugh was loud. Louis' voice normally carried across a room, his secondary school musical theatre experience to blame for that. But his laugh was another thing entirely, the sound of it sending Zayn's stomach flipping and his own lips curling up into a smile.

Especially when Zayn got to be the reason Louis was laughing.

I've done this before (Never done it like this, baby)

Scratchy scruff. Slender yet strong arms. Perfect curves. The small of his back. His soft thighs. Thin lips. Searing kiss. He knew Louis' body nearly as well as he knew his own.

He discovered something new every day.

Not like this (Not like this), not like this (Not like this, this, no)

Louis, Louis, Louis. Zayn couldn't imagine how he'd gone his whole life only dating women. He'd been missing out on so much love and emotion it made his head spin every time he remembered Louis was his.

Notes:

'You’re a secret I wanna wreck, pretty boy, come break my neck'

- Pretty Boy by prettystylinson